


The Shadow Effect

by Mysenia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Stilinski Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:53:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysenia/pseuds/Mysenia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What was the fun in being a twin if you couldn't trick a person or two?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shadow Effect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cywscross](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cywscross/gifts).



> Based off this prompt, and my ensuing tags, for the lovely cywscross.
> 
>  
> 
> [ Twin prompt ](http://mysenia.tumblr.com/post/119107683980/cywscross-stetervault-i-have-a-twin-and)
> 
>  
> 
> I'm going with Genim Stilinski as cywscross had that in their tags as the second twins name, if I'm remembering correctly.

Genim had been subbing in for Stiles long enough that he knew how to walk into an office, how to hold his face, and quickly ascertain who Stiles would normally interact with. He knew who to avoid and who to seek out. Genim always felt a rush when the person he was talking to would bring up something they had clearly talked to Stiles about and he would have no idea, and yet he was still able to bluff his way through. Though Genim himself had never worked in an office - he preferred his coffee house - he had been in them often enough as his twin brother that he never worried about getting caught.

He and Stiles were identical down to the last mole. Their mannerisms were eerily similar from the start, or so their father told them, and they had a connection that wasn’t explainable to non-twins. The only true difference between the two, at least outwardly, was that Stiles seemed to adore the busy beehive atmosphere that only an office job could produce and Genim was more inclined to the chaotic jungle that working as a barista provided. However, every once in awhile they both felt the need to change it up - and what better way to do that than to switch lives with their twin for the day?

As Genim waited for the elevator he wondered what this office would be like. Stiles had only been working at this job for the last 6 months and this was the first time either one really wanted to change things up. Stiles had been suggested for this job from his previous employer, a small family run business that was giving the younger generation more responsibility and who no longer had a job for Stiles. While Stiles had not been eager to become a personal assistant for this CEO he had told Genim that it would be a nice change of atmosphere. Stiles had optimism in spades and Genim adored that about his twin.

The ding of the elevator arrived pushed through his thoughts and Genim stepped into the elevator. Genim pressed the button for floor 30 and then glanced at his watch, he had 20 minutes before he was supposed to be in. Genim found it best to arrive early to case out the place, to get into the mindset. He hummed to himself, something Stiles did constantly, already falling into his Stiles persona.

“Wait Stiles! Hold the elevator!” A voice yelled from outside Genim’s periphery. He reflexively shot out his hand to catch the elevator before it closed. Genim wondered how the person knew it was “Stiles” when he was basically hidden from view where he was standing. Genim poked his head around the side of the elevator door and spied a well dressed man speed walking towards him. 

The man looked to be in his early forties, had a greying goatee, and stood about height with Genim. There was something familiar about the man and it took Genim a moment to remember how he recognized this man. The man was Peter Hale, Stiles’ boss of whom he’d showed Genim a picture of only about a numerous times. Stiles had a bit of a crush and Genim could see why. The man was broad in all the right ways and walked with an air of confidence that was well earned. Peter finally came even with the elevator and stepped past Genim, giving him a little smirk before coming to rest next to him. Genim let his hand drop and the elevator doors closed. 

“Here a little early aren’t you Stiles?” Peter asked Genim. He shrugged.

“Woke up early and didn’t feel like waiting around the house any longer. Coming in early to print off those papers you sent me last night seemed like the best option.” Genim replied. All true facts as Stiles went over with him yesterday what he was to do. It was the perfect excuse for Genim being there early, his cover for scoping everything out. He was going to have to be more surreptitious about it though with Peter being here already.

“You’re here early Sir.” Genim turned the conversation back onto Peter.

“Yes well the meeting with the Canadians got moved up and I need to revise their file.” Peter told him. He was giving Genim a weird look but Genim shrugged it off.

“Oh, I see. Did you want me to grab the file for you?” Genim asked. 

Peter shook his head, his hand raising the briefcase in it. Genim assumed that meant the file was in there. Peter was still giving Genim a weird look, as if Genim had something on his face or stuck between his teeth. Genim wasn’t normally one to be self conscious but that look would make anyone nervous - he wondered how Stiles dealt with such an overwhelming force such as this man day to day. The staring continued and Genim felt he had to speak up.

“I’m sorry Sir, is there something the matter?” 

“Are you feeling well Stiles?” Peter countered. Genim was a bit stumped, wondering what brought that question on. 

“I am feeling just fine, thank you for asking.” Genim tried to gage what Peter was thinking when the man continued to frown. Peter slightly pursed his lips, a move Genim is sure he would have missed if he hadn’t been staring back at the man. 

The elevator dinged just then, announcing the arrival at their floor. Peter gestured for Genim to precede him and Genim stepped out, mind leaving the conversation behind, thinking about what he had to get done for the day.

xxxx

Peter was sure there was something wrong with Stiles though whatever it was clearly the young man did not know about it. Ever since Monday Peter had felt there was something off about Stiles, his senses a bit jarred by whatever was ailing Stiles. It was Wednesday now and all week Peter had tried to subtly find out what was wrong with his personal assistant. Stiles was not acting differently, was not holding himself in such a way as to give the impression that he was hiding something, and yet Peter just knew there was something wrong. Where before his wolf would rumble it’s pleasure whenever the young man was near it now grumbled softly, not content but not outright hostile towards him either. Peter had never been more confused.

If Peter were to describe it he would say there was almost a shadow over Stiles, a faint layering that tweaked the young mans everything. It made Peter’s wolf itch to peal the shadow off so that they had their Stiles back. For Stiles was theirs, their mate, their other half. Peter had been overjoyed when his old friend had mentioned that their young office aid would soon be out of a job and would Peter consider taking him on because Peter had run across Stiles, known from the beginning that Stiles was the one he’d been looking for his entire life, and hadn’t known how to approach him without seeming a creep.

Peter knew it would probably still throw the young man for a loop when his older boss showed interest but Peter was willing to wait to deal with that landmine when they approached it. For now he was just content to get to know his young man, forming a bond with him first. That’s why when Peter noticed something off, though he was assured repeatedly that nothing was wrong, he became worried. If his mate felt fine, his words ringing with truth for he absolutely believed he was fine, then Peter ascertained that magic must be involved. Peter was quite sure Stiles had never before encountered, at least knowingly, the supernatural so it made him wonder how something like this could have come to affect him.

Stiles, while a bit of an impudent little shit, certainly wouldn’t offend someone to where they subtly took him down. No, Peter knew from experience, that the biggest reaction Stiles would garner from one of the supernatural would be a very obvious payback. Stiles was annoying and annoyance was served with a big dose of humiliation or embarrassment, not convoluted plots. It worried Peter fiercely that someone may be out there who would plot to take his mate down. Unless they were trying to get to Peter through Stiles? Yet that could not be right either because no one knew that Stiles was his mate. He’d made sure to keep that to himself after the horror his family had gone through with his nephew. Though Kate had not been Derek’s mate she had managed to gather enough information to almost annihilate them. Peter would not take chances.

As Peter watched Stiles move around his desk, organising papers and answering the phone he came up with a plan. Deaton would be able to help him, and if he couldn’t he could certainly direct Peter to someone who could.

xxxx

Walking into the office on Thursday morning Genim’s nose was assaulted with an overwhelming smell of mint and rosemary. He paused 5 steps back from Stiles’ desk trying to locate the source of the smell. Turning around in a circle did not reveal anything to him so he walked closer to his desk. There, just off to the right of his computer - located between his memo holder and his printer - was a tiny sachet that most definitely had not been there yesterday. Stepping up to it he peered closely and quickly confirmed that, yes, the sachet was indeed the thing responsible for the smell. While it was not an offensive smell it was certainly way too strong to be located in an office where the windows did not open. Genim sighed, wondering who in the hell thought that would be a good idea. Genim picked the bag up, accidentally squeezing it and almost suffocating himself on the smell. He felt his eyes tear up.

“Do you like it?”

Genim whirled around to find Peter leaning around his office door with the most sincere look on his face. Genim’s sure he wasn’t able to mask his look quickly enough as Peter’s face fell.

“Oh I do,” Genim was quick to reassure Peter. For he did like the smell, it would just be way better in about an eighth of the dosage. “Just, um, what is it?”

“It’s some potpourri I am trying out. The office is always so stale up here that I thought that would be a nice change of pace.” Peter smiled at him. Genim could almost swear Peter’s smile was strained - it actually almost looked like he wasn’t breathing - before he was forced to blink, his eyes still watering slightly. Peter’s face looked sincere the next moment so Genim wondered if he imagine the entire thing.

“I see.” Genim paused, wondering how to phrase his next sentence nicely. “Do you mind if I move it away from my desk a bit? It’s a bit, uh, pungent and I’m not sure I’d be able to work with it beside me all day.” Genim winced when he saw Peter’s face fall. Genim watched as Peter’s eyes took on a steely determination. Peter walked over and took the bag from Genim’s hand, walking back into his office while muttering under his breath. 

Later on when Genim came back from his lunch break he was hit with the smell again. Not as strong but still noticeable and he found three smaller bags, filled with he assumed the potpourri, and Genim just shrugged. Peter was clearly determined to have these on his desk and since he’d made the effort, Genim gave the tiny sachets the stink eye, he decided to leave them for now. He would try to remove them later when Peter had left for the day. 

Genim failed to remove the potpourri by the end of the day. Every time he turned around, thinking it was finally time, he would find Peter watching him. Genim was slightly wigged out as it seemed the man had a sixth sense when it came to the stuff. Every time he picked it up he would have to play it off as if he was just moving it to a different spot on his desk, like he was arranging it. It seemed to make Peter pleased that Genim was interacting with the sachets - he absolutely did not want to know why.

When the day was finally over and Genim walked out of the building he breathed a sigh of relief. Stiles’ boss had been acting so weird all week, hovering constantly and Genim was done with the nerve wracking stress that put on him. He did not know how Stiles put up with it. Genim was just glad that Stiles and he were switching back tomorrow, finishing their weeks off back in their normal routine.

xxxx

Peter was running late. He’d had a horrible night sleep worrying over his mate and wondering if the herbs had done their job. Deaton had reassured him that if Stiles was cursed with a shadow spell - a spell that slowly deteriorated the body from the inside out - that the spelled herbs would clear it out. That kind of spell just needed one good kick, like a saline rinse through the sinuses, and it would dissipate. When Stiles had frowned and wrinkled his nose over the sachet Peter had been worried that he would demand it be thrown out. It had been years worth of conditioning that had kept Peter from tossing the odiferous herbs out when Deaton had handed them to him and Peter commended Stiles’ composure when dealing with them 

Peter had known he had to do something and placing the herbs into multiple smaller sachets seemed to be his only option. Deaton had said that Stiles needed to be surrounded by them for as long as possible, exposure being the best remedy. It had made Peter ridiculously pleased that Stiles kept moving them, pushing the scent out time and again every time he squeezed them, thus renewing the effect on him. When Stiles had left for the day Peter worried that maybe the herbs had not been enough, that maybe Stiles would still be affected the next day. If Peter were not a werewolf he would swear he had given himself an ulcer last night alone, his anxiety at a fever pitch.

Instead of waiting around his house Peter had made his way into work early, hoping work would keep his mind busy until Stiles showed up. It sort of worked, Peter glancing up sharply every time he heard the elevator ding. When Stiles walked in his smell was saturated with the flavour of coffee and Peter had to strain his senses past that. At first Peter was disappointed because there still seemed to be something off about Stiles, that is until the young man walked into his office. Stiles had a big grin on his face and just there, underneath the overwhelmingly thick scent of coffee, was Stiles’ own natural scent. Stiles’ eyes seemed sharper and he was almost brimming with this happiness. If Peter let himself he knew he would be howling for all to hear. His mate was healthy and happy and in front of him.

“Good morning Sir.” Stiles positively beamed at him. Peter felt his face light up in response.

“Good morning Stiles. How are you feeling today?” Peter asked, his last little bit of anxiety pushing through.

“I feel terrific! How are you?” Stiles responded, everything finally ringing true. Peter couldn’t tell before but now it seemed like his made was in tune. Everything humming at the correct frequency.

“I am absolutely wonderful.” Peter replied, feeling almost euphoric. He could feel his wolf urging him to engulf the young man, to scent him and mark him. Peter stood up quickly, knowing he had to leave the office before he assaulted his young mate. 

“I’m just heading out to my breakfast date with Derek. I’ll be back around 11am.” Peter smiled at Stiles one more time before walking out of his office. 

Stiles smiled as Peter walked out, happy to be back in the office. His week at coffee shop had been fun but he had certainly missed the man. Stiles returned to his desk and he could definitely smell the potpourri that Genim had been telling him about. Glancing around Stiles found it in his small trash can and decided that it needed to leave his space or else he was going to get a headache. He isn’t sure how his brother managed to work all day with that hanging around, he would have just thrown it completely out. Stiles grabbed up his cellphone and the bag of garbage as he made his way back to the elevators.

“Dude, Peter seems just fine. Are you sure you weren’t just going stir crazy from being in an office all week?” Stile said the moment the call went through.

“I was not going stir crazy. Your boss was literally hovering all week. Did you not see the potpourri?” Genim demanded.

“Yup, throwing that shit out in the dumpster. Not sure how you worked with it all day.” Stiles shook his head at the smell.

“See?! That shit is weird! Who just randomly brings in potpourri to an enclosed space? And, AND! It is so pungent. Like I don’t know how the dude could stand it. Maybe his nose is broken.” 

“Dude, he was just being nice.” Stiles snorted. Sometimes his brother could really overreact.

“Uh no. Being nice would be giving someone coffee, not making their working space a biohazard.” Genim miffed at him over the phone. Stiles laugh.

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say. Stepping into the elevator now. Talk to you tonight.” Stiles waited until Genim harrumphed at him before hanging up.

xxxx

Peter was quite pleased with himself. He had managed to cure his mate of his ailment with Stiles being none the wiser and there seemed to be no lasting side effects. It had been a whole two months since Peter fixed him and Stiles was just the same as ever. They were getting closer, spending more lunches together. Stiles had even started texting Peter during off hours and Peter always found himself giddy when he opened his phone to a message from him. Peter would never admit it to anyone but he felt like a teenager with a crush whenever he interacted with Stiles outside of work.

Stiles did not seem to care that Peter was much older than himself. He never treated Peter like an idiot who wouldn’t catch his pop culture references. Peter may have scrambled to google a time or two but that was no one’s business but his own. All in all Peter was quite pleased with the way their relationship was progressing. 

He was walking in to work with the coffee he had just picked up for the two of them, a smile on his face and a lightness to his steps; only to be stopped short when his worst nightmare came rushing at his face. There was Stiles, seated at his desk diligently working away, with that same aura of wrongness to him. Peter felt the ache start in his chest and slowly spread through his body. Deaton had assured him that it shouldn’t come back. That Stiles’ body would not be susceptible to that kind of attack again. Stiles glanced up at him, a smile on his face, and Peter was quick to school his features into some semblance of a smile.

Peter quickly walked up to Stiles’ desk and placed his coffee down gently. He could feel a fine tremor working it’s way along his arm so he stuffed his free hand into his front pocket. Stiles smiled up at him with thanks, at once Stiles but not, and Peter nodded before making his escape into his office. Something had to be done and Peter was going to be the one to do it. Peter placed a call in to Deaton, nerves frantic with worry, and he practically seethed down the phone when Deaton asked him if he was sure.

Of course Peter was sure. A wolf knew when there was something wrong with its mate! He was offended down to his core by the question. He knew, however, that Deaton had protocols that he followed and asking inane questions was par for the course. Peter waited, not quite patiently, as he heard Deaton rummage through some papers or maybe it was a book. Deaton hummed and hawed and Peter bit his lip to keep from shouting down the line at the man. Peter did not want to alienate the only man who had any sort of knowledge towards what was ailing Stiles. Finally Deaton sighed, a squeaky thing that annoyed Peter, before telling Peter the news.

“I’m afraid it looks like the spell was able to attach itself more firmly than I had originally thought.” Deaton explained.

“And?” Peter ground the word out.

“And an actual spell is needed to counteract it. It would be best if you could bring your mate here and have me perform the spell on him.” Deaton told him.

“Absolutely not. You know he knows nothing about the supernatural world. He doesn’t even think there is anything wrong with him! I want to coax him into the idea of werewolves and witches, not scare him away by having some weird witch doctor chant spells over him.” Peter viciously bit out. Deaton’s ensuing silence was reprimand enough. “That was wrong of me. Is there a way for me to do the spell?” Peter refused to apologize. 

“I’m not sure the spell will be as effective if you perform it. As you know, though werewolves are brimming with magic, their ability to use it is almost non-existent.”

“Yes, yes, I know of all that. I’m still asking you if it’s possible or not.” Peter bit his tongue to stop himself from saying anything further. 

“It is.” Deaton told him and that was all Peter needed to hear. He quickly copied down the spell’s chant, repeating it to Deaton so he could get the right cadences and enunciations. Deaton sighed at him, as if expecting Peter to fail and Peter promptly hung up. He had no room for pessimism.

Gearing himself up , Peter walked out of his office - prepared to do what needed to be done. When Peter stopped beside Stiles’ desk the young man turned his head to look at him.

“Is everything alright Sir?” Stiles asked and the concern in his voice warmed Peter. He took a deep breath.

“No, everything is not alright.” Peter didn’t let the bit of fear in Stiles’ eyes sway him. “I have just been informed that something dire will pass if I do not perform a ritual ceremony. And for it to work I need a companion.”

“I, uh.” Stiles stumbled over his words. “Does that companion have to be me?” Stiles asked, a waver in his voice. Peter nodded. “I would just like to point out, I did not sign up for this when I accepted the job offer.” Peter tried not to laugh at the steeled whine emitting from his mate.

“All you have to do is sit there.” Peter told him and let some of his tension go when Stiles just continued to stare at him. He honestly expected Stiles to possibly run away from the crazy that his boss had become but his mate persevered. The look Stiles aimed at Peter told Peter that Stiles was calling him all sorts of potentially unflattering names.

“Just sit here…” Stiles trailed off, as if he did not know what to add to that. Peter nodded again. “I mean, I guess?” Stiles shrugged and Peter took that as good enough. 

Peter pulled Stiles’ chair away from his desk. Stiles squawked and flailed, trying and failing to grab the desk for support. He took to gripping his chair seat. Stiles whipped his head around to glare at Peter - Peter offered what he hoped was a contrite look but at this point his need to fix Stiles was paramount and niceties would have to wait. When Peter had Stiles where he wanted him he took up the chant, walking around Stiles as he said it. He touched the key aspects of Stiles that Deaton mentioned - his shoulders, his heart, and his head. Peter ignored Stiles protest of, “Hey! Hands off! You did not say anything about touching!”.

Deaton had told Peter to keep the chant up for fives minutes and then to leave Stiles be for an hour. If the spell didn’t take - he would notice a change within that time otherwise - Peter would have to repeat the chant one more time. Peter watched the clock like a hawk, becoming disheartened the longer it came closer to the hour and there was no change to Stiles, at least none that Peter’s wolf could discern.  
If Peter hadn’t been watching Stiles so closely he may not have made note of Stiles pulling out his cellphone while throwing surreptitious glances Peter’s way. Peter made sure to make it look like he wasn’t staring at Stiles, that all his focus wasn’t on the young man. Peter heard Stiles punch something into the phone and then ringing. Peter wondered if Stiles was going to call security, or worse yet the police, on him.

“Dude you’re supposed to be working!” Peter heard muffled through the phone.

“No. NO! I am done with this shit.” Stiles whispered fiercely into the phone. Stiles probably thought Peter couldn’t hear him, and a normal person wouldn’t. There was so much his young mante did not know about him.

“What? What do you mean? What’s going on?” The voice on the other end took on a weary tone. 

“Peter is fucking crazy!” Peter winced at that. Stiles wasn’t wrong, at least not from all he’d observed today. Peter did not know how he was going to dig himself out of this one.

“Oh my god dude, you are overreacting. Peter may have some quirks but he is not crazy.” The person on the other of the phone said. 

That made Peter pause. Peter had no idea who Stiles was talking to - other than he was absolutely sure it was not his nephew - and yet this person seemed sure they knew him. Stiles was no longer paying attention to him so Peter got up out of his seat and crept towards his door. 

“Yes he fucking is! He came to me today and asked me to help him perform a ritual, a ritual! He was walking around me and chanting and touching my arms and my head. Seriously, what in the actual fuck?” Stiles voiced raised bit by bit until his voice was at normal range.

“Was it important to him?” the person asked.

“Oh my god, that is so not the fucking point Stiles!” Stiles said. 

“Stiles?” That brought Peter up short and he could not help himself from asking. “What do you mean Stiles?” Peter stepped around his door and moved to stand beside not-Stiles.

“Uh.” Not-Stiles said.

“Shit!” Peter heard through the phone.

Peter yanked the phone away from the person sitting in front of him, a horrible dawning realisation pulsing through him. He put the phone up to his ear.

“Stiles.” Was all he said.  
“Uh, yes. Hi Peter.” Stiles responded. Peter had to take a calming breath. He looked at the young man sitting in Stiles place. “And this is your twin.” He said it as a statement, the moment the words leaving his mouth everything seemed to click.

Sometimes, when twins were born, they were shadows of each other. So similar that it would take their wolf mate seeing them together to be able to differentiate between them. Their human mate would look normal while the twin would seem shadowed. Everything the same, yet just enough differences to jar the wolf. As Stiles had never mentioned having a twin the thought had never occurred to Peter. Yet now, that was the only explanation that made sense. His other one seeming far fetched. Peter was never going to confess this to Deaton.

“And your name is?” Peter directed this question at the twin, Stiles remaining silent on the other end of the phone. 

“Genim, Sir. Genim Stilinski. Nice to meet you.” Genim held his hand out to Peter. Peter quirked a brow and Genim had the grace to look sheepish. 

“Nice to make your acquaintance.” Peter shook his hand. The breathing on the other end of the phone drew his attention back to his errant mate. “Stiles.”

“Yes Peter?” Stiles asked and Peter would swear he heard him gulp. 

“I believe you owe me Stiles. Your twin was driving me crazy. I knew it wasn’t you.” Peter paused at the fish eyed look Genim sent him. Stiles responding snort told him just how likely Stiles thought that as well. Neither knew that his wolf was the only reason he knew there was even something off about Genim.

“Oh trust me, I knew. Stiles, if you wanted time off you just had to ask. There was no need for this kind of convoluted plot.” Peter was kind of disappointed that his mate hadn’t been willing to come to him. 

“Honestly Peter, it was nothing like that.” Stiles sighed over the phone. “Genim and I have been switching places with each other since we were babes. No one so far has been able to tell the difference between us.” Stiles admitted. 

“I see. Well I expect no more of this. When you come in tomorrow we are going to be having a long discussion, is that understood?” Peter’s toned brooked no argument. 

“Of course. See you tomorrow Peter.” Stiles hung up before he could respond. His mate sounded upset but there was nothing to be done for it. Peter wasn’t angry, he just did not like having the wool pulled over his eyes. He turned his eyes on Genim.

“Never tell Stiles this but I am impressed that you were able to pull this off well enough to fool everyone. Working here is not easy.” Peter could see Genim’s eyes widening at the compliment before he smirked and nodded at Peter. “Would you consider working here full time?” 

“No, just take over for Stiles when we both want a change.” Genim responded. Peter thought that may be the case but there was no harm in asking.

“Right, well shoo. There’s no point you wasting hours away here when I’m likely to annoy you to no end now that I know I was not, in fact, going crazy.” Peter made shooing motions at him.

“How did you know?” Genim asked, genuine curiosity colouring his voice.

“Maybe one day I’ll tell you both.” Peter smirked at Genim. The twins would definitely be finding out, Stiles sooner than Genim, but there was no need to let him know it was a sure thing. 

Genim stuck his tongue out at Peter before heaving himself up from his chair, grabbing his bag, and heading for the elevators. He threw a hand up in a wave as he walked and Peter did not bother responding, knowing the young man would not see it. He smirked to himself as he turned back to his office. His mate was sneakier than he’d given him credit for. He couldn’t wait to get intimately acquainted with Stiles. Peter grinned at all the possibilities.


End file.
